


Flemings of Mayfair

by Midnightstar30



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, adorable kidlet is adorable, drive-by mention of past Gareth Southgate/OMC (for now), why can't I stop adding more to this JFC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 14:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17685332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnightstar30/pseuds/Midnightstar30
Summary: Gareth and Harry's stay in one of London's boutique hotels is something they've been looking forward to for weeks. In between the sex and the teasing and the fighting over the remote, a long overdue conversation about whatever it is between them is had.(Featuring a cameo from an adorable kidlet- don't worry she's not obnoxious).





	Flemings of Mayfair

**Author's Note:**

> So after spending my time on this site reading and being engrossed by Harry Kane and Gareth Southgate fic, I finally decided to take the plunge and write one of my own . I didn't expect that I'd go over 10,000 words but hey what can you do? 
> 
> I'd like to give a special shout out to both JillianJane and deadbadwolf, for their patience and being willing to hold my hand- over the internet- when I needed to them to. Thank you for all your help and support and I hope you enjoy the posted version of the drafts I sent you.

London is a wonderful city, thinks Harry. Big and beautiful, and he wouldn’t want to live anywhere else, but it’s also chaotic and frustrating and slow. Especially in the first few weeks of the new year. Right now, he’s been stuck in traffic, for what feels like the last ten minutes, as he makes his way to Flemings in Mayfair. His body is on edge with need, and it’s all he can do to not scream. He just wants to park, get to the hotel, and be wrapped in Gareth’s arms for the rest of the night.

He’s unable to prevent the smile from spreading across his face at that last thought as he checks his messages again. He texts Gareth to let him know he’s running late and that he’ll be there as soon as he can, hoping the text message doesn’t come across as too...desperate? He can’t help it if it does though. It hasn’t been that long since they last saw each other, but it’s … different now between them. Has been since the World Cup. A text alert brings his attention back to his phone and his heart starts racing.

_Don’t worry about it, H. Just get here when you get here, I’m looking forward to seeing you._

_*Jesus. That second sentence*_

He whimpers. He bites the inside of his cheek to force himself to concentrate as the lights begin to change. Heat is pooling in his groin, and for a brief second, he wishes he’d decided to take a cab. But this was better, safer, for both of them.

He rolls down the window and lets the cold air hit his skin, sighing in relief.

_Bastard. The complete and utter bastard._

It’s a completely innocent- well it should be- sentence. But Gareth must know what it would do to him. He must do. After all they both know that Harry has been desperately looking forward to seeing *him* too. Another text, and it’s his suite number, with directions to the private entrance. So, there’ll be no awkward questions being asked at reception then.

At first, he had thought his changing feelings towards England’s manager had simply been an evolution of admiration for the man, seeing as he was so easy to talk to….it was the calm, he thinks. Harry’s blood always ran too hot and the combination of Gareth slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulders, a few softly spoken words always seemed to do the job. Harry had begun to seek him out more, just enjoying their chats, never made to feel like he was taking up too much of the older man’s time.  But simple friendship and admiration for him didn’t explain the way Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from his hands when he talked. Wondering if those long fingers were soft or were rough with callouses. Wondering how they would feel on his skin. Or the way Harry just wanted to pull him closer, all the time, to know how Gareth would fit in his arms, how their bodies would fit together, run his hands down his back to that magnificent arse (how the man kept himself in such good shape Harry didn’t know, but he was ridiculously glad that he did) . What Gareth smelled like.

They were pathetically wholesome fantasies that nonetheless left Harry wanking furiously in the shower. Especially when he did get close enough to Gareth to know what he smelled like. He will always be sure the combination of sweat, grass and the lemony-scent of the shower gel he used, is pure heaven.

Things became worse after Harry became injured. With nothing else to do but rest at home all he could do was think about Gareth and tell himself he was a horrible person. After all, Kate was everything he’d ever wanted and they were *engaged* for god’s sake, they had another baby on the way, Kate deserved better than someone who kept dreaming about his national manager sinking to his knees and then when Harry had come once, proceeding to fuck him over the nearest table……

Apparently being ordered to stay on his sofa for at least 2 weeks had made his fantasies go from wholesome to full-on porn. Not that he was complaining.

Ok fine getting rid of screwed up wet wipes, wasn’t his idea of fun, but you did what you had to do.

He’d thought about talking to her about it but remained silent, scared of what she might think, that she would make him leave. The thought had made his heart hurt. Despite his feelings for Gareth (whatever they were), he still loved her and wanted to be with her, and he was scared if he discussed his feelings, he might lose her. So, he stayed silent and – and he must swerve suddenly, to avoid a bike courier accidentally crossing into his path-.

Well. That took care of one problem at least. He’s no longer buzzing from need.

Five minutes. Five minutes until he arrives at the car park. A little longer until he’s with him. Then, a blissful two nights with the man he thinks he might be falling in love with.

He parks, quickly grabs his bag, and makes sure that the parking is paid for. The car next to his seems oddly familiar, but he doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t want to keep Gareth waiting any longer. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, and soon finds himself standing only a couple of steps away from the door to …. their? Their suite.

Gareth is waiting for him in the doorway and Harry’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him.

_Fuck._

Clearly the trip to the Maldives did him good,  his skin is tanned to a light brown, offset by the soft pink of his shirt (when did he start paying attention to whatever Gareth’s wearing?) and Harry swears he’s in better shape than ever before, and it’s taking all of his self-control not to kiss him, right there (possible) cameras be damned.

A slow, knowing, smile spreads across Gareth’s face, it’s pure sex, a smile that would be intimidating to anyone else. But Gareth’s eyes are soft and gentle, and Harry knows that Gareth would never do anything to hurt him. Gareth makes him feel, safe and he makes Harry feel like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He smiles and walks through the doorway.

Gareth, to Harry’s disappointment, doesn’t push him up against the closed door and kiss him until he’s out of breath. He doesn’t immediately take him to the bedroom, proceed to strip him naked and trace every part of his body with his lips, while Harry desperately tries not to make too much noise as he pleads for release. He doesn’t take him in his mouth (and the ease in which he does so always gives Harry a pang of jealousy when he wonders who taught him how). He doesn’t eventually, then take pity on Harry, giving him exactly what he so desperately needs.  No, what Gareth *does* do is take Harry’s bag to the bedroom, telling him to make himself comfortable. Harry hangs his coat up kicks his shoes off and wanders around trying to will away the bulge in his jeans, obvious now that his coat is off. He wonders why Gareth is taking so long- it can’t possibly take so long just to drop a bag off, can it?

Unless he’s deliberately keeping him waiting.

Which...Harry doesn’t mind the idea of Gareth keeping him waiting.

He finds it…hot, he thinks.

Really hot. 

He’s contemplating some of the (tiny) artwork on the wall in the living room (read trying not to go out of his mind) when he hears a familiar low chuckle, one arm pulling Harry against a strong firm chest, the other hand sliding lower to cup him through his jeans, making him yelp- which quickly turns into a wanton moan.

“Missed me?”  Gareth’s breath tickles the back of his neck.

As if that’s a question.

“Yeah,” Harry gasps, his breath hitching as Gareth squeezes, nuzzles his neck, “Wait, please, just...wait,” The arms loosen go instantly, giving Harry a chance to turn, and finally, finally kiss this man. Gareth’s curious to see what he’ll do next- he can read him well by now- and Harry doesn’t intend to disappoint him. An eyebrow raises in a challenge, lips twitching.

Okay then.

Payback time.

Gareth’s lips are pliant under his, and Harry savours the sounds he draws from Gareth, as he pulls him closer. He tastes of tea, of mint and dark chocolate, and the taste- like everything else about him- is intoxicating. His hands travel down Gareth’s back bringing him even closer to him Gareth is hard for him. He loves that it’s him who can do this to the national manager, loves that he can break through that much-lauded control. When they break apart, Harry notes with satisfaction Gareth’s eyes dark with desire, the way his tongue darts out, to wet his lips and god Gareth really shouldn’t have done that, Harry thinks as he draws him in for another kiss. He wonders which way the bedroom is, because they really need to be there *now*.

He hasn’t realised he said that out loud, until Gareth laughs, softly, breaking away

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he nips at Harry’s jaw, “As much as I want to have you here, I’m too old for sex against a wall,”

Harry doubts that. But just to make sure….

He feels Gareth smile into the kiss as Harry presses him up against the wall, he moans deep in his throat as Gareth’s hands settle on his arse and those talented fingers start kneading and Harry isn’t sure he can last much longer if Gareth keeps it up. His hands make their way to the front of Gareth’s trousers, and he’s very pleased that he manages to unzip them without looking.

Gareth gasps as Harry takes him in his hand, “G…God,” Harry grins, “Actually it’s Harry, but thanks for the compliment,” He mumbles the last bit into Gareth’s neck taking the chance to drop tiny kisses on the exposed skin. The nip to his collarbone he receives in response makes him smile into the older man’s hair.

“Brat.” Harry laughs, and squeezes, just at the base, reminding Gareth, who’s in charge here. The moan he draws from him sends arousal shooting up his spine. Gods. Does Gareth know what he sounds like right now? All he wants is Gareth. He wants to taste him, wants to feel him hot and heavy against his tongue. He’s on his knees in seconds and uses his other hand to fully free Gareth’s cock, his mouth drooling with anticipation.

Gareth gazes down at him pupils completely blown, with his hands scrambling for purchase on something *anything*, settling on the moulding he finds, at least Harry assumes so, seeing as all his attention is focused on Gareth. Like of the rest of him, his penis is long and elegant, even when it’s flushed and leaking and Harry doesn’t even have to think, about anything else, before he’s leaning forward, and running his tongue around the tip.

The moan he receives in response, almost (almost) makes him come in his pants, and a hand comes to rest in his hair as he takes more of Gareth into his mouth. He risks a glance up and if he could he’d smile. There’s a plea in Gareth’s eyes, and Harry wants to take pity on him, but he’s been waiting for this for weeks, and he wants to savour every minute of this. He takes the hand in his hair and makes sure that the grip in his hair is tighter. He wants Gareth to fuck his mouth, wants his voice to be deeper, huskier, when he speaks after.  He savours every thrust, and moans knowing that Gareth will only thrust harder. Swallow he thinks. He must remember to swallow.

“Close…so close,”

Harry whimpers, he tries to think of the least erotic things possible- which is difficult, when he’s sucking someone’s dick, but he tries anyway.

He cycles through various images. Rotting corpses, zombies eating someone’s brains, the way he felt when England crashed out of the world cup, in the semi-finals…. that time when he was a kid and he accidently walked on his parents having sex.

It helps. What doesn’t help is the way Gareth is moaning and the way he’s holding back from thrusting harder into Harry’s mouth, and Harry holds his hips and just…. waits.

Gareth comes a second later, collapsing into the wall, urging Harry to his feet so that he can kiss him, he leads Harry to the sofa keeping him wanting with soft teasing kisses and pushing him down on it. Harry feels Gareth unbutton his jeans, and really Gareth doesn’t have to…honestly, it’s fine.

Gareth bats away his hands the same way he ignores his protests, Harry’s eyes squeeze shut when he feels a tongue trace the underside of his cock, and when a warm mouth closes around the tip it’s all he can do not thrust up upwards. A pinch to the inside of his thigh and Harry’s eyes fly open to meet Gareth’s direct gaze, and…that *that* is what has him spilling into that delicious heat. He’s vaguely aware of a slight choking sound, but that doesn’t matter when he feels Gareth’s lips on his, and he can taste himself and he’s sure the same goes for Gareth.

He moves over on the sofa to make room while fixing his clothes and snuggles into Gareth’s shoulder, when he comes to join him, neat and prim as he always is.“That was…” Harry struggles to find the words, far more interested in the patterns Gareth is drawing on his skin,

“Amazing,” Gareth kisses him “You were amazing Harry,” he pauses, sadness entering his eyes “It’s been far too long,”

Harry’s heart hurts. The next time the England team will meet is in March and Gareth can only make so many trips to London.  They’ll have a few chances to be together at St George’s Park, but even that means sneaking around and having only a few hours in each other’s arms. There’ll be too many eyes on them for it to be truly enjoyable.Harry wants to tell him how much he’s missed him, how much he’s missed the comfort of Gareth’s strong arms around him, how much he’s just missed talking to him, but he doesn’t have the words. It must show on his face because Gareth kisses him again, and it’s deeper, longer, and says everything that Harry wanted to say but better.

Eventually they disentangle and Gareth goes to the bathroom. He returns a few moments carrying two damp washcloths. They don’t really need them, but Harry is glad to be able to clean away any residual stickiness. His eyelids are heavy, and he feels Gareth, gather him into a much more comfortable position on the sofa. He hears the low hum of the T.V and relaxes into the warm cushions comforted by the soft rhythm of Gareth’s breathing.

 He must have fallen asleep, because when he next opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see the sky turning outside shades of blue, the kind that are straight out of a watercolour painting. It can’t be that late already surely? He catches sight of a clock on the far wall surprised it’s only been an hour since he got here.

“Is the wall really that interesting?” Gareth’s voice is amused. Harry blushes

“Sorry I just thought it had been longer than….”

“I know,” Gareth kisses his wrist. Harry hums in agreement then gasps as Gareth moves to his neck. Gareth stops, pulls back, for a moment (ignoring Harry’s whine) watching his face carefully. The intensity in his eyes makes Harry’s skin heat up again and he grins as Gareth rolls on top of him, the sofa, long enough and wide enough for Gareth to straddle his hips. Gareth resumes kissing him, mouth on his swallowing his cries, his hands tugging at the bottom of his sweater urging it upwards.They break away only to throw Harry’s sweater over his head. Gareth’s eyes devour him, and he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth, and Harry has to bite down to stifle his cries, his hands digging into the cushions. Gareth’s mouth moves down his body, stopping just before the (still) open waistband of his jeans. Gareth makes his way back up Harry’s body, licking a stripe up Harry’s neck before kissing him again.

Harry needs more, he thinks, he manages to wrangle one of his legs onto the outside of Gareth’s legs able to finally hump (shamelessly) against one of Gareth’s thighs. He wants Gareth to know what he’s doing to him. Gareth snorts. Breaks away, to catch his breath.

 “Again Harry? I think you’re over-estimating my recovery rate,  we can’t all be 25 -year- olds with the energy of a Labrador puppy, or in your case…” he leans down to kiss him, “Two,” he kisses him again and Harry whines when he pulls away- “I adore you, but take pity on an old man,” he adds with self-deprecating chuckle.

Harry laughs breathlessly “One, it’s been an hour,” Gareth bursts out laughing “Two: I may have the energy of two Labrador puppies- they’re fully grown by the way-, but you keep up brilliantly, and three I think you’ve worn me out most of the time,” he humps shamelessly  against Gareth’s thigh letting him know how much he needs this , “…Old man,”

“Cheeky brat,” Gareth nips at his lower lip. He stands suddenly, and Harry mourns the loss of contact, before he takes the hand that Gareth holds out to him. His heart races in anticipation of the feeling of cool sheets against his back, his legs wrapped around Gareth’s waist and Gareth’s skin against his own.

 

 

Gareth is gentle, is always, so gentle with him and while Harry loves how tender Gareth is, there are times, he wishes he wasn’t. This is one of them. He’s on the bed hands clutching the sheets, as Gareth traces every inch of skin with his lips peppering him with tiny kisses and the occasional bite, leaving gooseflesh in his wake . Harry's babbling and his cries are increasing in volume, and he desperately hopes that people in the adjourning rooms aren’t aware that the England manager is staying here with his captain.

Gareth kisses him slowly, tenderly, and Harry wants him to continue doing that. Gareth pulls back to reach for the lube and Harry focuses on the ceiling, trying to calm his racing heart with a few deep breaths. It really has been far too long since they last had a chance to be together.

Harry’s breath hitches, as he feels a slick finger enter him, and he grips the sheets tighter. Gareth glances down at him, concern in his eyes.

“Alright?”

“Y…yeah, ‘m fine. I’m good, kiss me,”

Gareth leans down to kiss him, moves down to kiss his stomach, then, adds a second finger to the first, and Harry begins to push back on those fingers, moaning Gareth’s name, this feels wonderful, but Harry needs so much more, and he whimpers when he feels Gareth adds a third. He's enjoying the feeling of being full when Gareth’s fingers curl and suddenly Harry’s entire body is on fire. He bites back the curse that threatens to rip its way from his throat.

“Please… please I want you,” he repeats the last bit of his sentence over and over again, desperation colouring his words.  He wants him, he wants him, he wants him. Gareth finally decides to take pity on him, his fingers leaving Harry’s body, Harry finds himself holding his breath, as he feels Gareth press inside him, with slow torturous thrusts. At last Gareth is fully inside him, and nothing else matters but this. Harry wishes that they could stay like this for longer breaths mingling but he can see it’s taking Gareth everything to hold back, and he really doesn’t want him to.

He wraps his legs around Gareth’s waist, presses his feet into Gareth’s lower back, and begs.

“Please,”

 Gareth starts thrusting inside him again and Harry moans grow louder. He thinks to himself that if people weren’t sure what exactly what was occurring in this suite, they’d be in no doubt at this point. He doesn’t care though. He really doesn’t.

He can hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears, feels his feet dig harder into Gareth’s back with every thrust. Gareth kisses his neck, moves to nibbling on his ear lobe, and his body is on fire and he wants Gareth everywhere. He feels Gareth take him in hand, his thumb pressing into the slit, and Harry doesn’t know what he feels. He wants this to go on forever, he wants to thrust up into that hand and have the best orgasm of his life, he wants, he wants, he wants….

It doesn’t take long. Gareth knows him too well, and soon Harry is crying out his name and spilling over Gareth’s hand. Gareth leans down to give him a long deep kiss.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs “My beautiful boy,” and for a moment Harry thinks he might come again just from those words alone. Gareth’s breathing becomes harsher and Harry knows he’s close, he forces his eyes to stay open, he wants to see…..

Gareth’s hips start to stutter, and Harry knows it won't be much longer. He reaches up, holds him tight in his arms, whimpering as Gareth's whispers how wonderful he is, over and over again. Gareth buries his face into Harry’s neck, crying out his name, thrusts slowing as he comes to a rest. They kiss slowly, tiredly, and Gareth as ever, is gentle when he pulls out of him. He lies on Gareth’s chest listening to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

Gareth’s thumb is caressing his shoulder, rubbing patterns into Harry’s skin and he has never more wanted a tattoo.

“I love you,” Harry whispers. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, and he feels a strange fluttering in his chest at how right the words feel. Terror mixed with joy follows, and he wonders if he hasn't ruined this. Whatever this is.

“I love you too Harry,” Gareth’s eyes are soft, and he presses a kiss to Harry’s hair.

“Can we stay here?” Harry cringes, at how young he probably sounds, but he doesn’t want to leave this bed. He wants to stay here, where nothing else matters except this.

Gareth presses another kiss to Harry’s hair, “I’d love to, but I think I’m going to need some food if I’m keeping up with you Harry. Labrador puppy remember?”

Harry snorts “Two fully grown dogs,” he mutters, nuzzling Gareth’s jaw. “Remember?”

“That’s even worse,”

Gareth’s amusement is clear, and to be honest Harry could really go for some food right now. It’s still early in the evening, there’s more than enough time for the two of them to spend in bed together. He rises from the bed, and this time it’s him who extends a hand to the other man.

“Shower with me?”

“Always,”

 

 

They shower together running hands down the lines of their bodies, unable to stop kissing  (and Harry loves kissing Gareth), but eventually they decide that they’re clean enough. They step out get and peruse the menus before ordering, both getting into their clothes and trying to pretend that it’s normal for the England manager and his captain to be staying in a suite together. Harry supposes that it’s why this hotel is so expensive. The staff have probably seen it all and are used to being discrete. Gareth seems unconcerned and it makes Harry feel safe.

Gareth makes him feel safe.

They’re sitting on opposite ends of the sofa when the food arrives, and Harry pretends to be engrossed in the BBC documentary on the T.V while the hotel staff member sets everything up. He can feel the curiosity and wonders what it would be like if he came out as …..well he’s not gay, he’s pretty sure of that, but ….he doesn’t know what he is or what Gareth is or what this is and fuck he’s spending too much time thinking about this when Gareth is right there setting the table and he’s the most beautiful man Harry has ever seen.

He’s never thought of a man as beautiful before.

Then again before Gareth no one had ever called him beautiful before.

Gareth is serving and Harry just wants to hold him. He embraces him from behind mourning the loss of the scent of the aftershave Gareth usually wears- he knows full well that Gareth probably has it with him but still.

Gareth turns to kiss him. The hunger is gone, sated. But Harry lives for these chaste kisses. The gentle acknowledgement of what they are to each other.

It’s a deceptively simple meal of pan-fried sea bass, new potatoes and trimmed fine green beans complete with a chive butter sauce. Harry isn't much of a cook (he's picked up a few things over the past few months) but he's pretty sure that he could make this at home, and it definitely wouldn't cost as much. He hasn't realised he's said that out loud until Gareth laughs and says he's going to hold Harry to that for next time. 

 Harry fills Gareth in on everything that’s happened over the past few weeks at Spurs. Gareth nearly chokes on his food when hearing that Dele (for some reason) decided to turn up to the unofficial Christmas – New Years party dressed as Elsa (blonde wig and all because Dele never does anything by halves) and decided to start pole dancing to “Let it go”. Harry still isn’t sure where the pole came from.

It was quite graceful Harry admits, even when the wig fell off.

He’s crying with laughter when, Harry continues with his story, moving on to later in the evening, when, after one too many shots, Dele gave Eric a lap dance, still dressed as the Disney princess, wig back on and everything, and after a particularly complicated move ended up on the floor with Eric falling on top of him.

Gareth wipes tears with the back of his hands, and Harry can only stare because he looks so young.

“Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

Gareth’s noticed him staring, he realises and his face flushes. His ears must be turning pink. Gareth’s smile grows, receiving a smile from Harry in response.

“Sorry,”

“It’s fine. I was just wondering how they were the next day,”

“I don’t know but they looked awful at training when we went back. Dele tripped over air while on the pitch and I think Eric walked into a door at one point.” He sees the question on Gareth’s face “Don’t ask. I have no idea how either, not to mention this was two days after the party,”

This sets off another laughing fit.  Harry grins. He has never been so glad he tries not to drink during the season. The vomiting fits that night had been epic. No wonder it had been a three-day hangover.

Harry askes about Gareth and work. Gareth is hesitant at first, (“Really Harry, you’d be bored out of your mind”) but Harry wants to know.

Truly he does. So, Gareth tells him and by the end Harry is thankful that he’s not England manager. He’d go mad.

They make their way back to the living area, looking for something to watch. There haven’t been any matches today (“Even if there were Harry, I want this time to be about us,”). So, they end up curled up together flipping through channels for some thing decent to watch this early in the evening.

“Oh, look there’s a Love island re-run on,” the glare Harry receives makes him burst out laughing.

“Don’t. You. Dare,”

“But I heard this season was really good, and y’know we never got to see some of it ‘cause we were in Russia,”

There’s a brief mock fight on the sofa as Gareth and Harry wrestle for the remote, Gareth “winning” eventually and changing the channel, until they finally decide to watch Luther again. Harry is still grinning.

“You really hate Love Island don’t you,”

“Mmm hmm,” Gareth nods “And if you ever suggest watching it again,” he wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders pulling him closer “You’d better get used to sleeping on the sofa, from then on, skipper,”

Harry pouts, earning him a kiss. He rests his head on Gareth’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of Gareth’s fingers running through his hair. His eyelids are so heavy…

“You’re tired…” it’s a statement not question, and Harry’s eyes snap open.

“Can you blame me? After this afternoon?” Gareth’s chuckles, bringing him closer.

“As much I would like to take credit for that, I can’t Harry…I really can’t.” he pauses “I’ll have to ask Poch to stop working you so hard, and shhh, no let me finish…” Harry holds back his protests, “You’ve been an absolute star, Harry, for Spurs and for England but Harry you need to take it easy for a bit. I know all you want to is play and work and that’s wonderful, but you need to rest for a while. You’ll burn out if you don’t.”

“I know…. it’s just…”

“I completely understand Harry, I used to be like that too remember? come on. Let’s get you to bed,”

“It’s still early,” he whines, (he is not going to bed without sleeping with him at least once more) Gareth laughs and kisses his nose

“Okay but if you end up falling asleep on my shoulder again Harry…” He gets it. He really does. They watch tv, sipping cups of tea in quiet companionship.

 

 

When they go to bed for the second time later that evening, Harry concentrates on every touch, he receives, and he responds in kind. He’s able to. It’s slower, less urgent than earlier, but no less amazing. He wants Gareth to know how much he appreciates every moment in his arms. Well in ways that don’t include moaning every two seconds. When Gareth presses inside him, Harry clings and whispers that he loves him again, and again. Well he tries. Gareth keeps kissing him, something Harry appreciates, but he would like his mouth to be free for a few seconds. Gareth breaks off briefly.

“You okay?”

“You have to ask?” Harry rises slightly, to capture Gareth’s lips, muffling Gareth’s huff of laughter, pulls him with him as he falls back towards the bed. It takes longer for them to finish this time, Harry is glad for the extra few seconds.

When Gareth comes, Harry takes the time to watch it play out across his features.

Harry pulls Gareth into his arms, lets him rest against his chest as they curl up together, wraps an arm around his waist lacing their fingers. He smiles as Gareth presses a kiss to his wrist and places a tiny kiss on the back of his neck.

“Go to sleep,”

 

He wakes when it’s still dark. His arms are empty, and for a brief second his heart hurts. That feeling dissipates when he hears water running in the bathroom, he looks towards the door to see Gareth walking through the door.

“Morning sleepy,” he murmurs coming to sit on Harry’s side. “Did you get enough rest?” Harry nods, he does feel exceptionally rested, which is surprising, considering what had occurred yesterday, but he’s woken up feeling like he’s slept for 12 hrs. Fear rushes through him, at that thought he hasn’t has he and damnit why can’t he find the clock here?

“What time is it?”

“Half-five, I was going to go for a run, do you fancy joining me?” Harry considers this briefly. Sunrise isn’t for another two hours and they’ll be back before then, and he *did* pack some kit. Besides it means he can shamelessly ogle Gareth as they make their way to the street, or, he supposes, now seeing as Gareth is already dressed. He nods. “Give me 5?”

Washed and ready he meets Gareth in the hallway, who pulls him in for a kiss. “Ready?”. As always Harry’s brain and mouth take a few minutes to start working, whenever Gareth kisses him. “mmm hmm” He tries to get another one, but Gareth insists that they must get going. He doesn’t think that there’ll be too many people out and it wouldn’t be eyebrow raising to see both the England manager and his captain out running (possibly) but it’s best to avoid any tricky situations.

They get back an hour before dawn, having done two loops of Hyde Park. Harry drags Gareth to the bedroom for a bout of semi lazy morning sex (he’s still hopped up on adrenaline) Gareth mutters something about thinking that Harry had used up all his energy. Harry lets him know just how much he disagrees with that statement (he still has a ton of energy to use up thank you very much) and end up facing the window as dawn breaks. They lie in bed watching the sky change colour, orange, gold and pink brightening up the sky, and listen to the sounds of London waking. Eventually though they must move from the bed. It’s Gareth who moves first, Harry feels the hesitant movement of his body and turns to face him. Gareth goes to say something, but Harry already knows he’s going to apologise about not being able to spend the whole day with him.

He has to go to a last-minute meeting, this afternoon. He’d apologised profusely in the days leading up to this mini break, it was why Harry was in such a hurry to get here yesterday, he kisses him to shut him up.

“Gareth, I told you it’s fine…besides…” he smiles cheekily “Somebody told me that I should get more rest, so that’s my plans for the day sorted,”

Gareth raises an eyebrow, amused.   Harry shrugs. “I’m not going to disobey the England manager, am I?”

“Meet me after?”

“I’d like that, yeah,”

Gareth laughs, his eyes soft and adoring . “Good, now I’m going to have a shower. Care to join me? Or ...Harry are you falling back asleep?” he laughs.

“Fuck off,” Harry mumbles into the closest pillow, and he’s glad that he can hide how red his face is right now. The sun’s rays are warming up his skin and it feels so good.

 Gareth’s voice is teasing, “I don’t think so” his voice low and husky, causes butterflies to erupt in Harry’s belly

Harry giggles, “I hate you,”

“I know you do.” A kiss dropped on his shoulder. “Anyway. I’m going to shower then order breakfast. Do you want anything, I can get them to send up a hot plate if you need to re-heat it?” Harry groans and rolls out of bed taking pleasure in the way Gareth can’t stop his eyes from sweeping over his body. “No, it’s fine. I’ll have some tea, and nap on the sofa, if I need to.” he pauses “You’ll be finished by two, right?” He takes his phone and makes a note of it. Adds an alarm for one if he needs it.

“I can stay for an hour, you know,” Harry yawns

“I know, now go shower, I’m having tea and whatever you’re having for breakfast,”

Gareth does stay with him for a little while, while Harry relaxes watching some morning talk show, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. Gareth’s right he thinks, he has been more exhausted than normal. He hopes he isn’t getting sick.

 

 

He wakes at noon feeling slightly better, thinks maybe he was overworking himself the whole time.

Gareth’s meeting runs over so Harry finds himself going for a walk, head down, hands in pockets.

 It’s drizzling slightly, clouds in various shades of grey rolling slowly overhead. It matches his mood, thinks Harry and he doesn’t quite know why.   He shrugs, folds the collar of his coat up and over the lower half of his face and keeps walking. He looks like any normal Londoner, and doesn’t get a second glance as he walks, the streets of London, sparer, almost abandoned, in favour of shelter from the rain. He walks slowly, through the parks, lost deep in thought.   His time with Gareth is always precious and special but even though they’ve exchanged _“I love you’s”_ he’s still unsure where they stand. Unsure if this is just a fling for the older man or something more. In a moment of clarity, Harry realises that this is the reason for him being so tired lately and resolves to talk to Gareth when he is done with his meeting.

 

 

His phone buzzes a text letting him know Gareth is finished. He texts back asking Gareth if he wants a lift back. Gareth replies that he’s heading out for something to eat but a lift back from there would be lovely.

They meet in a small out of the way restaurant, Harry declares he’s starving, (despite, grabbing a sandwich before he set out) and when Gareth shakes his head muttering that he must have a tapeworm, to which Harry innocently replies that seeing as he *is* professional footballer, he has to keep his energy levels up.The smile he receives in response from Gareth paints his cheeks pink- he hadn’t actually been thinking about the rest of their time together but still... He startles suddenly when Gareth’s leg’s presses against his, Gareth’s face schooled into a look of mock-innocence. He pushes back, deliberately and Gareth’s eyes glow with approval. Harry grins and goes back to eating the light meal he’s ordered. He feels Gareth’s gaze on him.  

He can’t wait. 

“Excuse me?” A small, soft voice breaks the spell and,  a faint cry of _“Hannah….no!”_ makes them turn in their seats.  There’s a little girl standing at their table, who looks suddenly shy when both of them turn towards her.

“Hello,” Gareth’s gone into “dad” mode, his voice soft, and, smile kind, “What’s your name?”

“Hannah,” she says in a small voice. Looking between them, trying to decide which one of them to talk to “My name's Hannah.” She says, eventually deciding on Gareth – he gives off better ‘Dad’ vibes than Harry does presumably, Harry can’t blame her, he thinks so too.

“Well what can we do for you Hannah?”

Harry watches the interaction between them, cheeks hurting because of the impossibly big grin on his face. He looks around trying to figure out which table she was at before coming over. His eyes land on a table in the far corner. A large family is sat watching them, the adults with indulgent smiles on their face, and- Harry laughs lightly under his breath- a boy who looks like he’s in his teens with his head in his hands.  Gareth has followed his gaze while listening intently to the girl who’s talking his ear off, clearly seeing the same thing.

The two of them share a smile, and Harry joins in gently “Is that your brother,” Hannah jumps, and giggles shyly

“You’re Harry Kane,” he nods. “Are you a fan?” she ducks her head shy once more.

“No, but my brother is,” She beams, happily pointing to where the family is sat. The teen at the table groans loudly, bringing soft laughter from other tables.

“It’s his birthday… and I was wondering” she hesitates, “Ummmmm could you sign his card?”  She holds it up, and Harry swears it’s as big as her head.

“Of course! what’s his name?”

“Andrew!!!” she chirrups brightly, _*Andrew*_ turns bright red, and the adults burst out laughing. 

“Do you think he would like a photo as well?”

She nods excitedly and the three of them turn to look over at her brother who by now is *scarlet*. Harry grins and waves him over hoping that he’ll know to bring his phone. Hannah is entirely too pleased with herself, and it’s just the *cutest* thing, especially when she gets to have a photo with Gareth. Her smile is from ear to ear, and she’s skipping on air as they return to their table.

“She’s got a Cr-ush,” Harry sings-songs. Gareth’s ears turn pink.

 “Shut up,”

“She’s got amazing taste,” he continues, teasing, “Did you see the way she was looking at you. Stars in her eyes,” a blush spreads across Gareth’s face, and he gestures for the bill.

Harry is still teasing him about Hannah’s obvious crush on him as they make their way to the car, (to be fair, Gareth hadn’t helped matters when he waved goodbye, to her and the rest of the family, as he and Harry left- resulting in another beaming smile,)

“She was adorable, “Gareth says shaking his head “They tend to be at that age,” Harry’s smile is strained in response. He really needs to talk to Gareth. They drive in silence back to the hotel, with Gareth reading something on his phone.

The suddenly awkward silence, is broken up by the top 40 playlist, playing on the radio.

 

 

 “Earth to Harry, Earth to Harry,” Gareth must have been trying to get his attention, for some reason, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Sorry,” he blushes. They’re back inside their suite, and Harry has been tuning out everything for the past 20 minutes. Concern is etched on Gareth’s features.

“Can you please stop apologising?” An arm is slung around Harry’s neck, bring him closer and the familiar scent of Gareth’s aftershave hits his nostrils, the thought of never smelling this makes his heart clench painfully. Gareth moves back cupping a cheek in his hand. How is it, Harry wonders as he nuzzles that hand, that Gareth is always the one to comfort him? “Harry? Talk to me,” He pauses and makes and waits until Harry opens his eyes and looks at Gareth, and his worries must have shown, because Gareth peppers tiny kisses along his cheeks, nose and forehead before ending with a gentle kiss on his lips and murmurs “What’s going on in that head of yours, Kane?”

“Ummm….” He doesn’t want to bring this, disturb the peace they’ve found in these stolen moments, now the thought is in his head,  _that_ thought, that the voice won’t shut up about. “I was just thinking about Kate….”

Gareth lets out the breath he’s been holding, “And I suppose…Alison?” Harry nods slowly.

“Okay. We should have had this talk a long time ago, but I suppose that now’s as good a time as ever,”

 Gareth walks to the bedroom and Harry follows him heart hammering in his chest. Wishing he’d just kept his stupid mouth shut He’s scared. Scared this is how this-whatever ‘this’ is – ends. Gareth is slipping his shoes off and sliding on top of the bed, moving to make space for Harry as he sits up against the head board. Waiting for Harry to join him which he does.

He doesn’t want it to end.

“Harry? Do you remember when you kissed me?”

He does remember. It had been just after they arrived in Russia.

“I think that was after I had told you I had feelings for a man,”

“And I avoided you for two days,” Gareth murmurs, ashamed “You were hurting, and I was too caught up in my own worries to help you. The only way I got my head straight was by talking to my wife,” Harry is intrigued. He remembers the conversation he had walked in on, but he’s never really asked about Gareth’s marriage. It’s clear he’s still very much in love with her, but Harry doesn’t feel like this is a fling for Gareth either. At least he hopes it isn’t.

There’s so much he still doesn’t know about this man, and so much he wants to.

“First things first, Harry. I need to tell you that I still love her and not just because she’s the mother of my kids, I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

Harry swallows hard, nods and encourages him to continue. Gareth’s arms draw him closer “But Harry. you make me…feel and want and…” he shakes his head in awe “I thought I could only feel that for one person, and I was happy like that, but apparently a 6”2 blond striker decided otherwise and changed everything, and turned my world upside down and I couldn’t be happier,” he pauses looking frustrated “I’m not explaining it very well am I? The point is Harry, I lo…” Harry knowing what he’s going to say, silences him with a chaste kiss. He doesn’t need Gareth to say it, it’s enough to know he feels it.

Hesitantly, Harry asks, “So Alison, knows you’re….?”

“Attracted to both men and women? Yep. She figured it out before I did, “Harry starts at how easily Gareth gives up that little bit of information which…..makes a ton of sense actually. Gareth starts running his fingers through Harry’s hair and Harry begins to wonder if he isn’t part cat, because what Gareth is doing feels amazing. “It doesn’t seem to scare her though, for that I’m grateful,” his eyes shine, crinkle at the corners. "In fact it makes me love her more," 

“That’s really nice,” Harry doesn’t know whether he’s referring to the fingers carding through his hair or the way Gareth’s marriage seems so solid, he still has so many questions not least of _which is how do I discuss this with Kate without being kicked out?_

Instead he asks, “So you’ve been with men?” He’s not sure he wants to hear the answer, but he’s already asked the damn question. Gareth inhales sharply, and nods.

“Once. A long time ago. It… didn’t end well and no I’m not going to tell you who he was, because then I’d have to hold off two angry blonds,” Ah. So, Harry should take ‘It didn’t end well’ as the understatement of the century then. “Alison hates him,” he adds with a fond smile. Harry thinks he quite likes Gareth’s wife.

“Any other questions?” Harry doesn’t think so. He’s still reeling from everything he’s just learned. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that much more than what he already knew about the man, but this is something nobody else knows about Gareth except for his wife and Harry feels incredibly lucky to have been told about this part of him that Gareth keeps tucked away. 

“Is everything okay now?” Harry nods, he does feel better.

Gareth is studying him intently, and smiles, “You’ll figure out it out in time Harry,” He doesn’t have to ask what ‘it’ is.

“Gareth?”

“Hmmm?”

“Got any plans for the rest of the afternoon?” Gareth shakes his head amused,

 “You’re insatiable Harry!”

“Gareth!!!” Harry tries for mock-innocence but is unable to maintain the pretence for much long than a few seconds. “I meant watching awful telly with tea!!” He barely gets those last words out due to laughing so much.

“I can’t help it you make me feel like a teenager again,” Harry chuckles- he can hardly blame Gareth, when all he’s wanted to do spend every minute of this retreat in bed, with him,  “A cup of tea, would be lovely, Harry, I have some e-mails to send off, do you think you can amuse yourself for a bit?” He pauses. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Kane” Harry laughs. He had planned on messing around on social media platforms, probably watching a movie, but now that Gareth mentioned it…

“Harry…. I have to work,” Gareth murmurs into his hair. Fair enough. Social media it is then.

Those plans go by the wayside, as Harry takes the opportunity to watch Gareth work. It’s a nice view. Harry lies on his stomach and watches Gareth type, squirming slightly as the memory of those fingers on his body, fills his head. He notes appreciatively the way Gareth’s  muscles flex under his shirt, the way his shirt pulls across his back when he turns in his seat slightly. When Gareth glances towards him, and sees him watching him, the tender, beautiful smile he gives him makes, his heart flutter. “Nearly done,” he says.

Harry nods and turns to his phone. He can wait a little while longer. After posting some photos on Instagram and messing about on twitter, and even he can only do so much of that before he gets bored, Harry checks his messages, smiles when he feels a dip on the other side of the couch. A glass of water chilled from the fridge is pressed into his hand.

“Done?” he asks, as he snuggles into Gareth’s chest.

“Yeah. Finally. Harry… what are you watching?”

Harry shrugs, he hasn’t exactly been paying attention, some home improvement thing, the type of show that Harry’s never really cared for. It’s only five and Harry doesn’t want to waste another minute. He glances up “Bedroom?” earning him a smirk from Gareth.

“If you’re not too tired.” He adds teasing, earning himself a gentle cuff to the head.

 

 

It’s passionate and tender and hightened, somehow that evening when they return to the bedroom. Harry and Gareth can’t seem to get out of their clothes fast enough and they are both achingly hard as they tumble into bed. Gareth lies back on the pillows watching him climb up on the bed. Harry's heart hammers in his chest at the sight of Gareth, stoking himself, slow and controlled. Harry takes the time to admire the view, before taking the opputuntity to be on top, rocking against Gareth, as he kisses him, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. He makes to move off, to roll Gareth on top of him, when Gareth stops him.

“No,” 

Harry is confused, what does Gareth mean ‘No’? He opens his mouth to ask…but then Gareth passes him the lube, and Harry’s body is on fire, from the surge of arousal, caused by such a simple plea.

“I want you Harry,” Harry’s mouth is dry as he finally understands what Gareth is asking for, and his hands are trembling as he undoes the lid “Are…are you sure?”

“Mmm.mmm,” Gareth leans back, spreading his legs wide, and Harry can only stare. God he’s beautiful. He really is. He laughs “Harry…get over here,” He continues stroking himself, and pulls Harry in for a kiss with the other hand. “I want you to fuck me…please?” he laughs, voice strained. Harry’s brain and body finally start working again. Gareth’s breath hitches as Harry presses a wet, sticky finger to his entrance, his hands gripping the sheets.  

Harry prepares him slowly, so slowly, sliding in one finger than another. The glare he receives when he asks if Gareth can take another is almost comical. He knows what Gareth is feeling, how he needs more, but all Harry can think about how good Gareth feels around his fingers, he wriggles them gently trying to find the spot that will make Gareth sees stars. He knows he’s found it when Gareth’s hips lift off the sheets. “Harry…..” Gareth gasps “pl….please!”.

He pushes in slowly, the feeling of Gareth around him, making his eyes squeeze shut. He pauses when he's fully sheathed in him, taking the time to steal a kiss, steadying his breathing.  He doesn’t mean to make Gareth wait any longer, really, he doesn’t. But he does want to savour this. The feeling of being in Gareth, in this incredible tight heat. It’s …heaven

_God._

He starts moving, slowly at first, then increasing the tempo, he knows he’s hitting that spot over and over when Gareth’s fingers start digging into his shoulders, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. He smirks or at least tries to. What would people say if they knew if the England manager was this vocal during sex? He leans down to steal a kiss, mouths at Gareth’s neck, tasting the sweat on his skin. Feels a leg wrap around him, feels the pressure of a heel digging into his arse, and moves steadily, swallowing Gareth’s cries with his mouth.

It’s all so overwhelming, and after a while Harry can’t tell where he ends and Gareth begins, but finds it doesn’t matter. He smiles into their kiss, lost in the perfection of this moment. His needs start to make themselves known though, and he finds himself thrusting harder, sliding a hand between their bodies. Gareth arches up into that hand, whimpering. He knows it won’t be much longer.

“Are you close?” he whispers, receiving a jerky nod in response.

“Come for me ...come for me, Gareth,” Gareth thrusts up into Harry’s hand,  which is still stroking him expertly. It doesn’t take much longer after that, until Gareth is spilling over his hand with a harsh cry, Harry follows soon after, murmuring Gareth’s name into his lips, who then draws him into a deep kiss. Gareth is smiling, and his eyes are shining. Laughter bubbles up in Harry’s chest and he’s unable to keep it from escaping. Gareth joins in, and as Harry gently pulls out, joining him on the sheets, still laughing.

Gareth turns to him, raises himself on an elbow, and Harry can’t stop him himself from kissing him again as Gareth laces their fingers together. They really should clean up, but he doesn’t want to leave the bed. “Stay,” Gareth murmurs, “We can shower later,” Harry definitely isn’t going to argue with that. They draw the covers around them, Gareth falling asleep on his chest.

 

 

Harry wakes first and takes the opportunity to admire Gareth as he sleeps, something he rarely gets to do. He’s surprised by how young Gareth looks, how carefree and vulnerable. The lines on his face seem shallower, somehow, and he looks ten years younger. Harry is saddened that he has to work so hard. That he always think he has to prove himself, to the media and to the public. He wishes that Gareth could always be like this; carefree and happy.

“Stop staring, it’s creepy,” Gareth mutters, Harry smiles. Of course he would know.

“It’s a good view,” Harry retorts, “And don’t start with that ‘I’m no David Beckham,’ nonsense,” Gareth laughs.

“Shall we shower? I’m starving,” Gareth rising from the bed, Harry watching for any signs of soreness. Gareth waits for him to rise from the bed as well “Harry? Harry, I’m fine, now…shower,”

Harry insists they order dinner in house. This may turn out to be the last time they can be together for a while, and frankly no one would care if they’re having their meal half naked. He pouts when Gareth points out that he has to be fully clothed for the time it would take the staff to arrange the dishes on the table, (“It’s only 5 minutes, Harry,”), but cheers up immensely when he realises that Gareth really doesn’t want to go to the basement restaurant either, and would much rather stay here, with him.

Gareth is looking at the drinks menu and asks if he wants anything apart from juice and water (“Apparently these non -alcoholic beers are some of the best out there?”), Harry peers over his shoulder, selects one he likes the look of, wraps his arms around Gareth as he orders. He’s feeling cheeky so he drops a kiss onto Gareth’s _adorable_ bald spot and feels Gareth jump slightly. He gets a pinch on his hand in response, he knows he’s going to pay for that after dinner. He grins happily.

He’s a ball of nervous energy over dinner. Gareth’s eyes twinkle and he struggles to keep a smirk off his face, and Harry just has to say something.

“Gareth….”

“Did you really kiss my bald spot earlier?” his face burns, and he drops his head shyly. He looks up when he feels Gareth’s foot stroke his leg.

“It’s cute?” Okay he’s definitely paying for that later, “I’m going to pay for that after, aren’t I?”

“Hmmm mmm,” He decides not to press it any further, and they finish their meal in silence the air crackling with tension. Harry’s nerves are on fire.

 

 

Gareth’s evil, Harry decides. He just is.

Harry finds himself lying on his back arms tied to the headboard and watching (and whimpering) as Gareth sinks down onto him. ‘Old man’ his arse, he doesn’t know that much about the gay (bi?) scene (if anything), but he doubts many men who are pushing 50 would be the one to ride their much younger partner.

“Bear with me Harry, it’s been a while,”

Harry really doesn’t care, all he’s doing watching his cock enter Gareth inch by inch and it’s amazing. There’s a moment as Harry watches Gareth takes the time to get adjusted to the feeling of Harry being inside him and being in this position. But then that’s lost Gareth begins to ride him, running his nails over Harry’s chest, and Harry could probably manage to get loose and grab onto Gareth’s hips, but he promised he wouldn’t, and watching this makes that promise worth it.

When Gareth finds the perfect angle, Harry watches the smile spread across his face, watches Gareth place his hands on Harry's chest solid and strong, and Harry whines, begging for Gareth to allow him to touch him.

“Please?” Gareth leans in close enough to kiss but just out of reach “Please what, Harry?”

“I want….  I want to touch you…I won’t ever mention your age again,” Harry manages to stop himself from mentioning that it was Gareth who had brought up his age, but it must show on his face, because Gareth just laughs, breath hitching, and asks “And?”

“N…never k…kiss your bald spot?” Gareth smiles, obviously deciding that Harry has suffered enough, and undoes the tie holding his wrists to the headboard. Harry flips them over driving into him enjoying the way Gareth urges him to go harder, and it doesn’t take that much longer, before Gareth is once again crying out as he comes.

“You’re evil,” Harry mutters after they’ve cleaned each other up "You are,".  Harry takes extra care with Gareth, does his best to ensure he’s not sore in the morning. He marvels at the last two days, and wonders how their relationship had progressed so rapidly, in a matter of hours. Gareth just chuckles, and presses a kiss to his hair “Go to sleep Harry,”

He falls asleep, comforted by the feeling of Gareth’s arms around him.

 

 

Harry wakes the next morning, heart aching at the thought of leaving this room, but strangely looking forward to going home. He smiles as he realises, he does still consider Kate and his two girls, home. He’d thought it would have changed after the last two days. But it hasn’t. He’s a selfish bastard but he wants both, equally, and hopes, hopes that Kate is able to give him that.

He watches Gareth (who’s already fully dressed) nursing a cup of tea while nodding to where one is waiting for him on one of the many side tables. He’s talking animatedly, face, shining with love, to someone on the phone and Harry knows instinctively who Gareth is talking too. Gareth is standing by the desk, packing his laptop and files into his bag, he sits down on one of the chairs with with a wince and evidently it must have shown in his voice, because the voice on the other end of the phone, says something that makes Gareth burst out laughing.

“You could say that, yeah……. oh, of course you do…..minx, See you in a little while, yeah I’ll stay up near the office tonight so don't worry about waiting up….” His face becomes sad “I wish….”  Gareth blushes “Well……oh really?....... I’m holding you to that…. see you later Ali,” he ends the conversation “Ali wants all the details,” he adds mischievously, laughter in his eyes.

Harry suddently remembers the day after the Colombia game when the players familes had come up to the base . He remembers the way Alison and Gareth had secluded themselves in a corner and the joyous, happy smile on Alison's face as matched only by the grin on Gareth's face. He remembers the way she reached over to pull him into a kiss, then for some reason unknown to him at the time, settled on kissing him on a cheek instead. He remembers the way their eyes met when Gareth was saying goodbye, and her kind, understanding smile followed by a mischevious wink, making Gareth laugh, and he realises then that she was giving him her blessing.

Harry grins even as his cheeks turns bright red, “What are you going to tell her?”

“The truth,” Gareth says simply before kissing him good morning. “Are you hungry? I’m going to order breakfast in a little bit, I hope your tea hasn’t gone cold.”  Harry tastes it cautiously, it’s still warm, but he knows he’ll probably need another before long. He showers and packs quickly, while giving Gareth his order. They have some time before check-out Harry notes idly.

“Want to watch some mind-numbing T.V?” Harry’s on the sofa before Gareth even finishes the question, moving to allow Gareth space, and offering him a cushion for him to ease the pain. Gareth is amused.

“I’ll be fine Harry, don’t worry about it,”

The news is dominated by Brexit, it always is and Harry tries to keep up but it’s the same bloody argument over and over again, it’s not something any of them can avoid, and Harry just tries to tune it out, perking up when it gets to the sport section, and then also the entertainment section? They’re in the middle of watching some talk show when breakfast arrives, Harry remaining anxious watching Gareth walk. He’s felt a similar soreness in the past of course, but he’s used to it by now….his thoughts are interrupted by a kiss to his temple.

“You’re thinking too loud again Kane, I told you I’m fine, it’s just been a while,”

“I like worrying about you though,”

“I know you do, but please don’t, I enjoyed yesterday. A lot,”

Breakfast being delivered, interrupts their moment, Harry doesn’t mind. He’s still floating on air from what Gareth’s just said.

 He hesitates, when they’re done, and ready to leave. The outside world is beckoning once again.

“Will you….” Gareth hesitates, Harry waits patiently “Will you let me know, whatever happens between you and Kate?” Harry nods slowly, fear making his heart beat faster.

“Harry…..Harry no matter what happens, I need you know that you will always have me, that won’t change.” He smiles sadly, “I just hope….you deserve the world Harry, I just want you to be happy,” Harry doesn’t trust himself to not say something horrendously sappy like “You make me happy,” Instead he nods and after a quick check to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, follows Gareth out of the door.

They make their way to the car park without drawing any attention to themselves. Harry is loathe to leave Gareth when they get his floor, wants to kiss him again, but they’ve already said goodbye. Harry watches him until he disappears and gets in his car ready to leave. He’s not really paying to much attention to anything, until he hears a honk alongside him at the other exit barrier gate.

Ah. He bursts out laughing. He had wondered why that car seemed so familiar, and now it makes sense. He’s walked past it plenty of times, while wandering around the car park at St George’s Park. Gareth waves goodbye to him, before heading off in the opposite direction to Harry. Harry just smiles as he drives back, glancing at his phone.

_See you soon. Gareth x_

He taps his fingers to the beat of the music, lightheaded and giddy, already counting down the days.

Soon then. He turns towards home, clear blue skies overhead, the city shining in the midday sun.

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea who to make Gareth's ex, so for now he's just an OMC. If I do decide on someone we know I'll come back and change it at some point. 
> 
> Flemings of Mayfair is a gorgeous boutique hotel btw you can see their rooms here: https://www.flemings-mayfair.co.uk/luxury-mayfair-accommodation/rooms--suites/107-1/
> 
> Please, please please don't hold back on the criticism. I value any and all.


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